


take the air from my lungs

by hikaie



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Blood Loss, Español | Spanish, Established Relationship, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Injury, Injury Recovery, M/M, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 13:16:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7619536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hikaie/pseuds/hikaie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“We should go home. Someday. Someday soon.” Lance says, voice quiet.<br/>“Yes. Please.” Keith answers, because there’s nothing he wants more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	take the air from my lungs

**Author's Note:**

> I started this as a) wanting to do some angst relating to a Spanish lullaby and b) wanting Lance to speak some Spanish under specific/realistic circumstances? Also feat. Keith knowing/understanding Spanish (because Lance taught him) and implied past Shiro death. Spanish translations at the end if you need them!
> 
> Yet again, I know I said I was writing something happier but that got scrapped so... more angst (with hints of fluff!) Enjoy!
> 
> (If you're interested, the fic title is from "[Swallow You Whole, While I Fade to Black](https://open.spotify.com/track/50zGa0nVKpIXtreyz0CGUY)" by Jonny Craig.)
> 
> Edit: Apologies for the Spanish usage. I now realize the error of my ways, but I'm keeping this up unedited for the posterity of my dumbness.

“What were you _thinking_?” His voice is shaking, but not nearly as much as his hands- one on his bayard, the other gripping Lance too hard.

“I wasn’t.” Lance admits in a hiss as he presses his hands into the wound on his side. They come away blood-slick, red coating the white armor of his IEVA.

Keith wants to shove him down into the alien dirt; wants to shove him and kick him and shout at him, because anger is familiar and easy. He wants it to be like it used to be, when Lance had an affected-air of hating his guts. He wants it to be like it _used_ to be, back when he didn’t even know who Lance was. He doesn’t want it to be now, not three years into being a part of Voltron, his grief from Shiro’s loss _finally_ fading, their power greater than ever-

Not now, not _Lance_.

Lance stumbles over his feet and Keith has to catch him. He latches his bayard back to his side, the battlefield safe and quiet after Lance’s last little stunt. When he hoists the other paladin up against his side, Lance spits out a vicious string of “Mierda, mierda, _mierda_ ,” then proceeds to go limp. Keith takes on the full weight of his body in a panic. He slaps him, just a light tap on his cheek at first, but firmer when Lance doesn’t respond.

“GOD, _shit_ , what th- _agh-”_

He buckles again, conscious but dead weight. Keith drags him towards Red, leaving a trail of blood in their wake.

When they get inside, he drops Lance against the floor joint between the on-ramp and the cockpit. As Keith settles into the pilot’s chair he groans pitifully and flops across the floor, smearing blood everywhere.

Keith is dodging shrapnel plummeting through the low-atmosphere from the recently destroyed Galran ship when Lance speaks up. Keith can see in his periphery that he’s managed to push himself up against the wall, leaving a streak of blood across the floor.

“Don’t kill us, you nearly-” He grunts in pain when Keith swerves past a flaming chunk of ship, almost sending him sprawling.

“Is now _really_ the time to be criticizing my piloting?”

“It’s always the right time.” Lance snickers but it peters off into whimpers of pain.

Keith white-knuckles the levers, arching past a fast-falling flaming panel before rocketing into the outer atmosphere. The castle is in low orbit and the particle barrier flickers to let Keith pass.

“I need a pod ready.” Keith barks into his com before putting Red into autopilot. Then he scrabbles across the cockpit to help Lance up. He swears when Keith hefts him up and he’s leaning, if possibly, more heavily into him now than before. He’s sweaty and teary-eyed and he clamps blood-sticky fingers onto Keith’s shoulder.

Keith gets a hand under Lance’s trembling knees and hoists him up. He looks starry-eyed at the sudden displacement. With a rush of dread, Keith feels blood start to seep warm and tacky against his own IEVA from Lance’s wound.

“Ah, si, llévame a casa, querido.” Lance mumbles, and Keith knows the blood loss is catching up to him. His heart aches at the pet name.

“Shut up. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Estas llorando como un pendejo.” He slurs most of the sentence but makes sure to put some Herculean effort into the last word.

“Fuck you.” Keith laughs, unable to help himself. Lance grins at him.

“Ah, tu sonrisa. Ahora… tengo que morir?” It sounds like Lance means to say this to himself, but Keith catches it and digs his fingers into Lance where he holds him. The younger man wiggles uncomfortably in his arms. He’s waiting on the airlock to depressurize, just a few more moments-

“No, you’re not. Don’t even- Lance, just-”

“Prepara para lo peor, huh?” They’re Shiro’s words, words to live by; the paladin creed, really. Keith stares at him dumbly; he’s shocked at the gall Lance has to say this to him, now, but when doesn’t Lance have the gall to do anything he wants? Agony makes a home inside his chest, fresh and familiar.

Hunk rushes in, and between the two of them, they carry Lance all the way to the infirmary in record time. The blue paladin is concerningly pliant as Keith shucks off his IEVA and bullies him into the pod.

“Hey,” Lance catches his hand, fingers distressingly cool. “Recuerda que te amo. Hmh?”

Keith nods, pulling away quickly, painfully, letting the pod slide shut.

 

When Lance wilts out of the pod a few hours later, Keith is there to catch him. After which he promptly drops him on his ass and yells at him, fists clenched, barely holding back from kicking him.

“You absolute _asshole_ , and I’m supposed to be the impulsive one! How dare you break formation, how dare you-” And he’s got a whole rant planned out, _really_ , has sat here and stewed over it, is going to give Lance the lashing of a fucking lifetime over this- but-

-but Lance looks up at him, pitiful, from the floor and-

“Don’t you _ever_ fucking-” Keith chokes off, covering his mouth. He blinks down at his boyfriend, anger simmering just beneath the fear. He wants to punch something. He wants the tears to dry up, he wants to push the fear deep down in the hole it belongs in and let the anger lead his body into exhaustion, into routine numbness.

“I’m sorry.”

“You _should_ be!” He laughs, strangled, and grabs at Lance. Pulls him up and hugs him so hard he hurts even himself, but can’t bring himself to stop, not even when Lance whines and grabs at him weakly.

“Keith, buddy, _querido-_ ”

“Don’t _querido_ me fucker, I’m still mad.” Keith snarls. It’s weak enough without him tailing it with sniffles. He loosens his grip, just a little, and Lance nuzzles into him.

“It’s okay, I’m okay.” Keith nods as Lance comforts him, which feels very backwards, but he won’t admit that he needs it. That he appreciates it. He keeps Lance crushed against him until his hands don’t shake and his breath evens out.

“Hate to ruin the moment, but I’m kind of cold. And still covered in blood.”

Keith clutches him tighter. “That’s your fault. I’m not done hugging you.”

“ _Keeeith_.” He whines. It doesn’t take much to get Lance up and running.

“Nuh-uh.”

Lance silences, wobbling in his hold, but rests his chin against Keith’s shoulder. He rubs a hand up and down Keith’s back and begins to hum. Keith feels tears prick anew behind his eyes at the familiarity of it- the hand on his back, Lance’s soft rumble, the words to the song coming to life in Keith’s mind. Lance starts to mouth them into Keith’s shoulder and Keith _trembles_ with it.

_No llores, bien mío,_

_No llores más no_

“We should go home. Someday. Someday soon.” Lance says, voice quiet.

Keith considers the words, piled high with implications. _Before we die_ , the unsaid words sing between them. _Us_ and _home_ are foreign concepts when used in conjunction, like this. Home is Voltron; home is their fellow paladins; home was a shack but now its Lance cradled in his arms in a too-cold alien room. (The way Lance says it makes it sound like home is with him but distant, an old planet, a space carved out for him. The promise of a family.)

“Yes. _Please_.” Keith answers, because there’s nothing he wants more.

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, si, llévame a casa, querido - Ah yes, carry me home darling.  
> Estas llorando como un pendejo. - You're crying like a little bitch.  
> Ah, tu sonrisa. Ahora… tengo que morir? - Ah, your smile. Right now... do I have to die?  
> Prepara para lo peor, huh? - Prepare for the worst [case scenario], huh?  
> Recuerda que te amo. Hmh? - Remember that I love you.  
> No llores, bien mío, No llores más no - Don't cry, my love. Don't cry anymore, don't. [From the Spanish lullaby "[Yo soy Vincentillo](http://www.mamalisa.com/?t=es&p=624)" You can listen to a version of it [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/74u1Nlnm4INVCXO92fojaf).]
> 
> Thank-you to Steven for the Spanish help! My translation skills were rusty and it was much appreciated.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
